epilogue: High Ground
by RhyannD
Summary: This is an epilogue, completely different/separate from another High Ground piece I wrote. The other was the first Fan Fic I wrote for this universe. ug Just a little P/C which stays in cannon for this point. This is one of my favorite episodes, and is what made me start as a PCer


Beverly insisted upon going to the bridge immediately upon beaming back to the Enterprise. The captain understood her need to see her son, and acquiesced-he knew a trip to sickbay was in order for both of them but was just as happy to delay it for himself as well.

She barely was able to contain her tears when she held Wesley. The almost grown man-child who had figured out the source of the dimensional shift. The wave of emotion felt almost like vertigo, and she had to quickly take her seat to Will's right as they broke orbit.

Deanna caught the captain's eye and nodded in Beverly's direction. "Sir, may I recommend the two of you be checked since you did go through the dimensional shift…" she broke off, knowing both officers would argue. One glance at the gaunt, pale doctor's direction, and the captain rose.

"Doctor Crusher."

She rose automatically, a slight rushing in her ears. That was odd. She followed the captain to the turbolift, noticing the rock dust clinging to the back of his uniform. She felt filthy herself, and thought she might just skip the refresher for this uniform and discard it entirely. She wanted to spend a week in a real water shower after being in those caverns…

She turned to face the front as the doors closed, just behind the captain. The subtle gravity shift of the turbolift's motion was something so familiar to the crew they automatically adjusted for it. This time she could not quite keep up, and found herself swaying distressingly; she reached an arm out and caught the captain's shoulder.

"Beverly!" He turned and caught her, in one motion gently lowering them both so he was on one knee and she was half-sitting, half-leaning against him. Her head dropped to his shoulder.

How odd, she thought. "Sorry…" she murmured. He lifted her chin to check her eyes, hand gentle on her jaw. Logically she knew what he was doing. But her gut clenched with the intimacy of the gesture. Finn warned her he would kill 'her captain' for Ansata's 'cause'… she started trembling and couldn't stop. The captain's grip around her shoulders tightened protectively.

"Picard to sickbay, meet us at the turbolift." It was only a few more moments of privacy before the lift arrived at destination. Beverly's mind was slow, she felt like she was drunk. This was nice… she had wanted to hug him, for him to hold her… why was there a nagging feeling that something was wrong? Then the doors opened, and Selar was there, and Alyssa and… oh, no… the anti-grav stretcher was for her.

Jean-Luc was the one to lay her on it, to smooth her hair out of the way. He held her hand when she started to panic and refuse. "Doctor, you need to just relax and let your incomparable staff do their job." His words held a note of command, but his wonderful eyes were concerned, and his thumb stroked slowly on her wrist soothing her agitation. He walked alongside the short way to a biobed, and did not let go when they transferred her and ran diagnostics. That gentle touch lulled her, the sounds around her so familiar and safe. She drifted away…

Deanna appeared at the bedside. The captain's jolt of panic had sent her shooting up from her seat on the bridge. Even when Beverly had been missing, he had not been as distraught-or at least he'd been able to shield it.

"Sir?"

The captain shook his head, looking to Selar. "Is it the transport? The dimensional shift?"

"Exhaustion, moderate-to-severe dehydration, extremely low blood sugar." The Vulcan ticked off the list. "Nothing serious. We will replenish fluids, electrolytes and nutrition, the rest of the prescription will be for rest."

The captain and counsellor let out kindred sighs of relief. Selar turned to Picard. "I believe you are to be cleared for duty?" She expectantly held up the tricorder at him.

He was ready to protest, still holding Beverly's hand. Deanna smiled softly at the revelation. "I'll stay with her until you're done. It will just be a minute or two, Captain, I'm sure."

Fewer than ten minutes later, the captain returned. They had changed Beverly into the requisite sickbay pajamas, and an IV-tube ran into her arm. Deanna felt the anger radiating from the captain as he stood next to the biobed.

She waited. Most often she found Jean-Luc Picard would open up to her if she simply waited. He knew by now he could trust her, he even knew it was better to talk about things, but it still ran against his upbringing, and the old-boy culture of being a StarFleet officer.

She could sense him sorting through the rage. Felt the sadness and tenderness beneath it.

"She'll be just fine Captain. Dr. Selar says as soon as she wakes up she can return to her own quarters so she can rest better in her own bed." Deanna offered.

The captain nodded.

"She would have helped them…" He shook his head in disgust. "She would have helped them anyway, if they'd just _asked. _I'm sure she'd have convinced me to help them. Instead they terrorized her, and she helped them _anyway,_ and then they didn't even have the decency to give her food and water."

And then it broke through the rage, stronger than the anger-surprising Deanna completely-guilt.

"It's not your fault, Sir."

"If I'd only beamed her up…"

"She'd have never forgiven you." Deanna stated emphatically.

"She told me much the same." A tender half-smile lifted the corner of his lips. Deanna wondered if he even knew how he felt about Beverly; if he acknowledged it to himself, or allowed it.

"As you said, she would have done it if they'd asked. She was doing her job when she stayed there after the bomb. You can't change that. That's not your fault, and it's not _her_ fault either." Deanna waited until he was looking at her again, she wanted to be sure he understood her on this point. "The only ones at fault here are the terrorists who kidnapped her and you."

The captain didn't argue with her, but she knew it would take time for him to accept the truth of it. "Why don't you go wash up and rest a bit. Beverly won't wake up for a couple of hours now. I'll let you know if she does. "

He thought about arguing, but that would be sheer muleheadedness. And getting clean and out of the filthy uniform he'd been in for almost two days sounded like a very good suggestion, so he took it.

=/\=

Beverly jerked awake with a start. Deanna Troi was there immediately, reaching for her hand, soothing her. "You're safe, you're home… it's alright, you're in sickbay."

She was in the Captain's private bed in sickbay, to be exact. Deanna raised the back of the biobed and she leaned back with a sigh.

"OK?" Deanna asked, pulling the blanket back up on her.

"Yeah." Beverly concentrated on slowing her racing heart as Alyssa came in.

"How you feeling, Boss?" She asked gently.

"You tell me?" Beverly replied somewhat meekly.

"Numbers all look good. You're nice and hydrated, electrolytes are all up, and nutrients are fine until you feel up to eating."

"It's a good thing I have excellent staff." Beverly smiled at Alyssa. Then, hesitantly, she asked, "No damage from the transport? " She was worried the advanced equipment on the Enterprise would pick up more than she could on the planet.

"The damage was very minor and should be totally repaired by normal cell regeneration. We'll check again of course later, but you both should be fine."

Beverly closed her eyes in relief. The Ansata were dying a horrible death…

"I'll go get Dr. Selar and she'll release you to quarters." Beverly met that information with a huge smile.

Deanna moved back to the stool next to the bed. "I'm going to want to see you tomorrow." Beverly rolled her eyes, but knew it was SOP and there was no way around it.

"Afternoon. I plan on sleeping for a week."

Deanna smiled. "You just let me know when you wake up and we'll schedule it."

Dr. Selar arrived and Deanna slipped out, returning with one of Beverly's robes. "It's past 02:00 hours, I think we can safely sneak you to quarters in this." Beverly smiled, she'd certainly traipsed the corridors of the Enterprise in worse during ship's night.

"Thank you, Dee" Beverly said as they arrived at her door.

"I'm very glad you're back, Beverly." Deanna said, giving her friend a hug. "Comm me when you're up tomorrow."

The door swished open to the most wonderful smells, and her table set for two. "What is this?"

"Ah, breakfast…" An uncharacteristically nervous Jean-Luc Picard said from the corner nook by the replicator.

"Oh!" Beverly's stomach rumbled loudly at the suggestion. A basket of croissants sat in the center of the table and something smelled wonderful.

"I… hope you don't mind. Deanna let me know you were being discharged… and well… "

"It's wonderful Jean-Luc!" She began to head for her bedroom. "Give me just five minutes…" She spun around and returned to the table, taking a croissant and tearing the end off. "mmmm… berightback..." she mumbled around the mouthful of pastry.

She still opted for a water shower instead of a sonic, but she made all due haste. It was wonderful to wash the grime of Rutia from her hair and skin. She dressed in a big blue sweater and leggings, leaving her feet bare and her hair down and wet. She was back out to the table in four and a half minutes.

The captain wore loose black pants and a casual dark green top. He looked tired and still slightly stressed, but the lines of tension were gone. He was just bringing a quiche to the table. "Sit, it's all done." He instructed her.

She sat, a glass of juice and water in front of her. He sliced the quiche and placed a piece on her plate, and one on his own, then passed the basket with the croissants to her. She dutifully picked out the one she'd already nibbled on with a grin.

"This is lovely…" The quiche had red peppers and spinach and cheese. It was delicious. Both of them ate in companionable silence, then once they had assuaged their hunger somewhat, the captain began to tell her a little more about what had gone on-things he was hesitant to mention when he was sure there were listening ears on Rutia. Beverly told him some of the things Finn had said… the tension draining out of her as she talked through it.

When she yawned for the third time, the captain looked at the chronometer, startled to see an hour and a half had passed. "Dr. Selar is going to have my first-aid and field care certification revoked, I managed to feed you, but tire you out even more… "

"This was so nice Jean-Luc. We never get to just talk. It's always too busy at lunch or dinner, even if we try to sit together. It's just nice." Another treacherous yawn escaped. She didn't want this precious time to end. They had talked on Rutia, for the first time really, since he'd left after Jack's death. Certainly for the first time _really _since she'd been aboard the Enterprise. Sometimes it all felt so complicated, but then, and right now, it felt like he was the best friend she'd ever known. She'd _almost_ told him… Well, she'd been rescued from that. This was better. For now anyway.

"Come now…" he was standing in front of her chair, lifting her up by the hand. " Off to bed with you. Rest was the prescription if I recall. I'll just clean this up and be gone."

"This was _really_ nice." They were standing, almost eye to eye, his hand still held hers.

"It was, wasn't it." His voice was soft.

She nodded, her voice suddenly lost.

"We should make it a habit."

"We should." She agreed.

"Breakfast tomorrow then?"

"Breakfast."

And so a tradition was begun.


End file.
